


The Whipping Boy

by caeneus_fic



Category: Final Fantasy XVI
Genre: Come Marking, Gang Rape, Gangbang, M/M, Punishment, Rough Oral Sex, Sadism, Spitroasting, Whipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:48:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26505421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caeneus_fic/pseuds/caeneus_fic
Summary: When Joshua is caught sneaking into the chocobo stables, Lonan is punished in his place.
Relationships: FFXVI Protagonist/lots of dudes
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	The Whipping Boy

**Author's Note:**

> I've only known the FFXVI protagonist for less than a day and already want that twink obliterated. 
> 
> He needs a name so I'm just calling him Lonan until we learn more info about the game.
> 
> Next chapter is when things get heated.

“You know you aren’t supposed to be here,” Lonan said, making sure to keep his voice too quiet for anyone outside the stables to hear. Behind him, the daily hustle and bustle through the courtyard was beginning to calm down for the evening. Still, all it would take was one nosy maid or keen-eared guard to get him and Joshua--mostly him--into trouble.

He waited, unable to stop himself from grinning, as the only sound he got in reply was the impatient scratch of his chocobo’s talons in the hard-packed ground. She knew he’d brought her a treat. With a soft shush as he rubbed her beak, Lonan squatted down and peered under her. There, hiding behind one of her powerful legs and clutching at her feathers, was little Lord Joshua.

With no way to bluff his way out of being caught, Joshua’s fair face ballooned out like a frog’s. “Please don’t tell my father,” he said, eyes watering. “Or my governess!”

Lonan crept over on all fours, nudging his chocobo over to the side so he could squeeze himself into the corner of her stall beside him. The boy learned his lesson from the last time he was caught sneaking into the stables--over his fine clothes, a tattered sheepskin cloak had borne the worst of the scrapes and dirt from his crawling around. He must be hot wearing such a thick cloak in the summer, Lonan thought, though he was clever to protect himself. If his governess found his clothes dirtied and torn again, the servants would be the ones to pay. No one had ever spanked Joshua.

Despite that, the boy was not spoiled. He was simply a boy--curious and excitable, eager to escape the stifling confines of his heritage. The chocobos fascinated him endlessly, none more so than Lonan’s steed. Her coloring was unique. Impractical in battle, as the stablemaster was fond of reminding him; the snowy white color of her feathers with their opalescent sheen were dangerously indiscreet.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Lonan promised him, tousling his hair affectionately. “But you know I can’t teach you how to ride.”

Joshua’s cheeks puffed out further in silent indignance. No matter how many times Lonan told him no, he never gave up.

Lonan fished around in his vest for the small pouch of seeds he’d brought with him. “Want to feed her?” he asked, chuckling when the boy’s tears vanished. He snatched up the pouch and crawled out from the stall at breakneck speed, clucking in a poor imitation of a chocobo chick. The little lord was almost pitiful, Lonan thought with a pang. Why his father was so overprotective, to the point Joshua was rarely allowed outside of the castle, was anyone’s guess; it certainly didn’t seem to be from any great affection on the lord’s part.

“It tickles,” Joshua said, as Lonan’s steed lowered her great beak into his outstretched palm and nibbled at his offering. “I wish I had my own chocobo.”

“They aren’t pets, Lord Joshua,” Lonan reminded him gently. As careful as she was around the boy, Joshua had no idea how distinguished she was in combat. They could fill the stables twice over with the amount of men she and Lonan had killed together in service of their lord.

Joshua’s small hand curled into a fist and withdrew under his cloak. Lonan’s chocobo butted her beak against his chest, clicking in displeasure that he’d taken away her treat. Joshua stroked her head, laughing.

“Lord Joshua!”

The loud, shrill voice caught them all off guard. Lonan jumped to his feet, feeling like his heart might leap out of his throat. All his years of training and experience was no match against the governess--the woman could sneak up on anyone, man or beast. He extricated himself from the stall to find her grabbing for Joshua’s arm, only to stop herself and take hold of his dirty coat instead. Her prim nose wrinkled, like it always did whenever she deigned to mingle with the common folk. She held the coat out. “This must be yours,” she said stiffly. “You know better than to lead Lord Joshua out of the castle after his curfew, especially to roughhouse with this brute. What would you do if he was hurt?”

“I’m sorry, Madam Lucil.” Lonan bowed, knowing that the best way to deal with any of the lord’s inner circle was to accept blame without any attempt at making excuses. He met Joshua’s eyes and shook his head slightly when the boy’s mouth opened, wishing the boy would likewise play his expected role in these situations. “It won’t happen again.”

“How many times does this make? If it’s not you, it’s another one of you bringing Lord Joshua out here to these filthy stables. Perhaps you boys need more training if you have so much time to spare.”

“Yes, Madam Lucil.”

“Yes, you need more training? Or yes, you have too much time to spare? Which is it, boy?”

“Madam Lucil, I’m cold,” Joshua interrupted, giving her the most angelic eyes he possibly could. When he was a younger boy it was irresistibly cute. Now that he was older, its charm was waning. Madam Lucil paused, sneering at Lonan for a moment longer as if this too was somehow his fault.

“The master will hear about this,” she said, ushering the boy away.

Lonan felt his chocobo snort against the back of his head, in vain search of the rest of her treat. With a sigh, he patted her down for the night and returned to his quarters, expecting that tomorrow he would have to help in the scullery, or scrub the chamber pots, or do some other such chores that Madam Lucil liked to dole out to impertinent soldiers.

Instead, when he returned to the soldiers’ quarters he found Sir Albus waiting for him. The thought of ignoring him or turning around and returning to the stables seized Lonan for a reckless moment.

“You, there,” Sir Albus said, putting an end to his foolish fantasies. “Come with me.”


End file.
